


Aural Sex

by angstbot



Series: Readers' Choice [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing in the world that made Emma’s body light up like the sounds Regina made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aural Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Regina sounds like a pornstar in the bedroom and Emma always gets beyond turned on by the sounds she makes. I didn't totally stick to it, but I think I'm in the ballpark. 
> 
> The first installment of the fourth batch of Readers’ Choice, with 1084 words because that is how many Tumblr followers I have at this moment.

Emma fucking loved how Regina smelled. Fancy perfume so high-end mere mortals like her had never even _heard_ of it mixed with the tang of magic that always ghosted over her skin and a certain scent that was just _Regina._

And god, the way the queen looked. Madame Mayor took no prisoners in her power suits, and oh, the ones with the vests. The savior had taken to speaking in reverent tones of The Straining Buttons of Everlasting Promise on her shirts. But then there was that moment when the hair fell out of the older woman’s ponytail when she was cleaning vigorously, with a little smudge of dirt on her cheek that the blonde wouldn’t point out to her for anything. Her face softened when she looked at Henry, sometimes almost imperceptibly, but it was breathtaking. And then there was the way she was so peaceful in her sleep, the weight of crimes committed and endured temporarily lifted.

Of course, Regina was also stunning with her chest heaving, her pupils blown wide, biting her lip.  She was goddamn gorgeous when she was sweaty and flushed and completely fucking melted into the bed in post-orgasm lassitude. Perhaps the best vision of all was the queen looking imperiously down at the blonde settled between her legs, demanding that she “Lick my cunt already, Miss Swan.” Or maybe the supreme feast for the eyes was the one Emma got when she spread her apart with her thumbs and just _stared_ at how fucking beautiful she was.

Oh but to feel her was divine. Emma loved the softness of Regina’s hair, the smoothness of her skin, the shape of her curves. Then again, the throb of pulse in her femoral artery, her slickness, her heat—those were exquisite sensations as well. Sometimes the savior just needed to feel her queen so badly that she’d reach and stretch to push her tongue inside even though she wasn’t quite built for it and it hurt like hell.

And fuck, the way the older woman tasted. Like pussy, and magic, and that indefinable _Regina-ness_. And those things were all good, but somehow together it was indescribable and made the savior want to cry and come and profess her undying love all at once, every time.

But there was nothing that made Emma’s body light up like the sounds Regina made.

The queen had a certain shuddering intake of breath when the savior dug her fingertips into her hips to pull her close, turn her around, ask the question, and it was like the tuning note of an orchestra. From that moment on the blonde became the conductor, coaxing the most beautiful music out of this exquisite woman. Regina was wildly responsive, as noisy as a porn star, and it would be off-putting except that it was gorgeously, excruciatingly _real_.

The “mm” low in the queen’s throat with a stroke up her spine—with Emma’s fingertip, nose, lips—made the savior need to close her eyes with want.

It became a vocalized “umm” with a hot mouth on her neck, and damn the blonde was glad they could magic away the hickeys because that sound was one she inevitably wanted to hear for a good long time.

Of course, it was nothing like the deep chest-groan that the older woman made when the blonde closed her mouth around a nipple, fluttered her tongue, sucked. It made the Emma’s whole damn body throb with how much she wanted this woman’s pleasure, and especially so when the sound became a delighted hiss when she added teeth.

But what stopped the savior’s heart in her chest, took her breath, raced like fire along her nerves was the moan Regina made when her tongue found her clit for the first time. It was breathy, a sound of anticipation, a sound of desire. Through careful attention and extensive experimentation she decided that it was ever-so-slightly different from the second touch, which was distinct again from the third, and they all differed from the way her queen sounded after the first orgasm but before the second.

The older woman’s moans went up in pitch when the blonde fluttered her tongue, but the tone slid down if she licked hard and steady. Regina’s moan turned into a long, drawn out “uhhhhhhh” when she pulled her clit between her lips and sucked, and it was so goddamn good.

The noises got louder from there, and it was fucking glorious. Emma had never taken magic so seriously in her life as when it came time to learn the soundproofing spell. She learned it immediately, and flawlessly, and could more or less cast it in her sleep because there was no- fucking- way she was going to pass up a chance to make Regina come, or demand that she be quiet, simply because someone might overhear.

Emma loved to close her eyes and just concentrate on hearing her, reveling in the tiny shadings of tone she could coax out. The older woman went from “um,” at those times when Emma’s tongue was pressed inside her, to “ah,” when the blonde slid eager fingers inside her. It became “oh” when she curled to reach her g-spot, “unhm!” when she added the third finger, and the queen became completely unable to make consonants at all on those rare occasions when she pleaded to be filled with the fourth.

Regina’s sound blended with a pant to become “hummnh” when she got close, except when they were fucking hard and she skated oddly close to a grunt with “unh uhn uhn!” The blonde found it entirely endearing, though she learned after only one attempt at gentle teasing in the afterglow never to call it that. And really, in the moment, she could spare no brain cells to name the sound, lost in the electric joy of hearing her. Oh god, and the times when she stroked and coaxed her to another level entirely and she just _keened_.

Once, when the queen was riding her strap-on, Emma needed her desperately closer and pulled her down to cradle against her chest. Being pressed so tightly against the savior, her head tucked into her shoulder even as her hips worked relentlessly, seemed to hit a new angle, and suddenly Regina was hitting new decibels. As she fucked herself, reaching, needy, she got louder, and louder, until she came so hard that it physically hurt and left Emma’s ears ringing. But damned if it didn’t take her right along.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my moan-sound consultant the linguist. She knows who she is.


End file.
